


Of Sunbeams and Shadows

by Eggling



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Historical Shenanigans, M/M, Season 6B, episode-styled plot, probably some historical inaccuracies but also some historical nerdery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:03:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10096220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggling/pseuds/Eggling
Summary: The Time Lords send the Doctor and Jamie to investigate temporal activity at Danebury hill fort, leading them to run into some old enemies.





	1. Part 1

Weak sunlight filtered through wispy clouds to trickle almost reluctantly down upon the hilltops, casting them in sharp relief against the shadowed plains and valleys. Despite the serenity of the landscape, green, open fields broken up by patches of thick woodland, the air was anything but silent, rent by voices, the pounding of hundreds of footsteps, the clanking of metal and the thudding of wood over birdsong and the rustling of branches. The hill fort was afire with activity and life, but there was a fear in this action, an inescapable, discontented undercurrent.

As such, there was little peace to be broken by a wheezing, screeching sound, which might have been described by some as akin to a key scraping a piano string. Others, who recognised the sound for what it was, would have described it as a hole being torn and sewn up in all eleven dimensions of the space-time continuum simultaneously. As the people of this time and place had no concept of keys, pianos, or eleven-dimensional physics, however, they would simply have called it a bad omen, the work of the gods. It was with little ceremony, therefore, that a 1960s police box materialised in a sheltered hollow against one of the outer walls of the hill fort.

“Och, can ye no' give us a smooth landing for once?” an exasperated voice issued from within the box, sounding altogether too far away to be contained within its apparent dimensions. “I'm bruised all over. Reminds me of that time we went to the moon. You remember, the one when -”

“Stop making such a fuss, Jamie!” another voice snapped in reply. “That wasn't my fault. If you remember correctly, we were caught by the Gravitron. Nothing to do with my piloting skills!” For a brief moment, the doors of the box burst open, allowing only the smallest glimpse of the impossibly large room within before being blocked by the departure of its two inhabitants, and closing with a loud creak. The Doctor looked up at the sky happily, stretched, and started to wander down the narrow path made by the ditch between the walls, leaving Jamie to roll his eyes fondly, lock the TARDIS doors, and jog to catch up, taking his companion's hand.

“You never explained what our mission was, exactly,” he pointed out. “Why are we here?” he glanced around at their surroundings. “And where is here? Looks like England.” He groaned. “You've no' landed us in England, have you?”

“Hm?” the Doctor glanced over to him, then returned to flicking through his diary with his free hand. “Danebury hill fort, around 76 BC. The CIA detected some unusual temporal activity near this spot.”

“I don't know why you're bothering with that thing.” Jamie leant over and took the diary from the Doctor. “You never write anything important in it anymore, they don't let you – hey, is that a drawing of _me_?”

“Give that back,” the Doctor snapped, frowning in that way that Jamie knew meant he was embarrassed, and tugging the book out of Jamie's hands. “I do write important things in it. Just not things specific to our missions, that's all.”

“'Dear diary, Jamie looked very handsome today.'”

“No!”

“'I brushed my hair especially and got a new jacket.'”

“We were going to an important conference!”

“'He's noticed this and thinks it's cute.'”

“Not at all – oh, really?”

Distracted by their gentle teasing, neither the Doctor's superior senses or Jamie's instinct told them of the men pointing to them from the top of the innermost wall, nor of their whispering and the departure of a messenger.

“Now, Jamie,” the Doctor grew serious. “We need to get inside to investigate, so just leave the talking to me, alright?”

“Ye always say that,” Jamie protested. “But I havenae seen any sign of your 'diplomatic skills' yet.” He relented under the Doctor's stern glare. “Alright, alright. Have it your way.”

Despite all of the Doctor's put-on nonchalance and confidence as they strolled towards the front gates, Jamie did not get a chance to see the Doctor's diplomatic skills in action, as they were stopped by a barrage of stone-headed spears and axes aimed at their necks. The Doctor put his hands up, very slightly, but Jamie simply drew his own dirk from its sheath and levelled it at their assailants, who exchanged wary glances at the sight of the gleaming metal.

“Now, now, Jamie.” the Doctor pushed his arm down, levelling the dirk at the ground. “Let's not do anything hasty. I'm sure all this is simply a misunderstanding!” The growl issuing forth from one of the men belied this hope, but the Doctor smiled at them nonetheless.

Any remaining hope they might have held of a friendly welcome slipped away as the men began to wordlessly shove them along the winding path through the fortifications. Jamie did not hesitate to shove back at any of them who he deemed as treating the Doctor too roughly, despite the Doctor's alarmed protests, but still they were pushed towards a large wooden structure in the centre of the defences. At last, they were shoved unceremoniously before a stern-looking man, who regarded them with cool disdain. There was no hostility in his expression, but nor was there anything which might be called innocent curiosity. His stature was not great, but seemed to be increased by the bright, chequered colours of his cloak, the shine of his sword and the flamboyance of his jewellery. The Doctor immediately puffed himself up to his full height – one or two inches shorter than the stranger, which made him frown in dismay – and straightened his bow tie, which had been knocked askew in the scuffle.

“What is your business here?” the man demanded, drawing a dagger and levelling it at the Doctor's throat. Jamie grasped at the Doctor's sleeve in alarm, causing that icy gaze to flicker towards him for a moment before returning to the Doctor. “I will warn you, strangers arriving unannounced on our doorstep are not welcome.”

“We're just travellers passing through, we're not important,” the Doctor replied hastily, pushing the dagger away with what Jamie supposed was meant to have been tact, but simply appeared as nervousness. “What exactly is happening here?” His voice changed from a lighter tone to something more serious, more dangerous, and the man narrowed his eyes.

“Why would something be happening?” he asked cautiously. “This land is good, and it belongs to us. Perhaps we take objection to you trespassing on it.”

“Yes... or _perhaps_ you are afraid that we are connected to the trouble you've been having,” the Doctor pointed out. “Why don't you tell us all about it?” The man remained locked in determined, stony silence. “Well, what's your name?”

After a moment's hesitation, his answer came. “I am Tamm, senior warrior.” Tamm paused. “How did you know that something was wrong?” His eyes narrowed. “Are you druids? A clairvoyant, perhaps?”

The Doctor's eyes lit up as he seized upon the opportunity. “Yes, I am gifted with something of the second sight.” His eyes grew distant, almost misty, as if he were remembering horrors and wonders beyond their comprehension. “I walk in the astral plane. I see the spirits and auras of this world and the next.” He laid a hand on Jamie's shoulder, grinning, his expression one that Jamie knew he alone could recognise – one that was intended for him. “Jamie here is my companion in all things. He acts as my anchor to the physical world.”

“Are we going to do this now?” Jamie hissed, gently hitting the Doctor's side with the back of his hand, but the Doctor merely winked. Tamm, however, seemed impressed by this display.

“Perhaps...” Whatever he had been about to say trailed off, and for the first time, he seemed uncertain. “Perhaps we should escort you to our leader. He will know what to do with you.” With a snap of his fingers, he turned to descend from the outpost, and the Doctor and Jamie found themselves being shoved along by the guards once more.

They were led through the gates and into the village in something that seemed akin to a parade, the very concept of such levity in striking contrast to the drawn and worried faces of the people they passed. When at last they were led to the largest of the round, thatched huts, Tamm rapped sharply on the door, and the guards pressed on Jamie and the Doctors' backs so they were forced into a kneeling position.

Tamm bowed deeply, and a pair of soft leather shoes entered Jamie's field of view. “Travellers to see you, my liege Camrhis,” Tamm announced. “They know of – of recent events here. One of them claims to be a clairvoyant.”

Feeling it was safe to raise his head, Jamie looked up to see a man of about Tamm's height, but even more richly decorated. Jet rings adorned his fingers, and necklaces of assorted beads were strung around his neck. His patterned cloak was fancifully dyed, and Jamie saw with despair that the Doctor was eyeing it appreciatively. A curious crowd was slowly gathering around them, men and women and children looking on in confusion. Their attire varied from plain to extravagant, as Tamm's was, but none rivalled the splendour of their leader.

“A clairvoyant?” the leader echoed. “We shall see about that. Rise.”

“Oh, thank you.” The Doctor grinned broadly, making a great show of dusting off his coat. It would have been slightly more effective, Jamie thought, if he had been dressed a little more impressively, and if his hair had not looked like several small birds had taken up residence in it and were in the process of building a nest. “I'm the Doctor, and – and this is Jamie. I was told that there have been some strange events here.”

“Who told you?” Camrhis frowned, and turned sharply to the warrior beside him. “Tamm -”

“No, no, it was the spirits!” Jamie blurted out, struck by sudden inspiration. “The spirits of, erm, time. They speak to the Doctor, tell him where to travel to, where to help.”

“Yes, well done, Jamie,” the Doctor murmured. “As my companion says,” he continued, raising his voice, “I do indeed walk in other worlds, in places you cannot imagine.”

“Places we cannot imagine, Doctor?” Chamrhis looked sceptical. “Or places like the surrounding villages, to hear the stories told of late? I do not believe that you can have powers beyond those of our own elders and priests.”

“Well, then, I shall prove it to you!” Looking around in a rather flustered manner, the Doctor gestured towards several objects before his gaze fell upon a clay pot sitting a few metres away. He drew his arm back slowly, then lashed out, hand curled into a fist, as though striking the object from afar. Sure enough, it burst into fragments, and a low mutter of surprise and fright rose from the crowd around them, almost enough to drown out the tell-tale whirr of the sonic screwdriver, gripped in his hand and hidden by the over-long sleeves of his coat. The simplicity of the sleight of hand made Jamie smile – the people here stood no chance of discovering it, akin to his own confusion when he had first encountered the Doctor.

Camrhis raised his eyebrows in measured, poised surprise. “Well, it seems you may have been telling the truth after all, Doctor.”

“Of course!” the Doctor drew himself up, frowning as though offended by Camrhis' disbelief. “Do you think I would lie about something as serious as that? Now, will you please tell us what is going on here?”

Camrhis sighed, and glanced at the crowd. “We will discuss this further inside.” He beckoned towards Tamm and a few of the others standing nearby, then vanished into the cool dark of the hut. Jamie and the Doctor exchanged wary glances, then followed him inside.

It took some time for the group to take their places, the new arrivals – who, the Doctor murmured in Jamie's ear, must be the priests and the elite warriors – seating themselves in what were clearly established positions, placing the Doctor and Jamie directly across the fire pit from Camrhis, pressed tightly together in order to fit inside the circle.

“When did all this trouble start?” the Doctor began.

“About a month or so ago,” Camrhis replied. His previously authoritative voice had faded to something weary and resigned, and his bearing had seemed to slump the moment the crowd had dispersed. “These... creatures came to us, demanding that we surrender and accompany them back to... well, no-one could quite understand where. Their homeland, I suppose.”

“Creatures?” the Doctor echoed.

“Monsters would be more appropriate,” put in one of the priests, an older man with long, grey-streaked hair and a richly carved staff. “They were not of this earthly world. I do not know that anyone has seen the like – even you, Doctor, with your strange powers.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised,” the Doctor said softly, eyes flashing in the firelight. “Did they take anyone?”

“Not exactly.” Camrhis hesitated once more. “I refused their demands, and they... One of them fired _something_ at one of the guards. Killed him instantly. They left, came back a week later, and the same thing happened. And the week after that.”

“When was their last visit?” the Doctor asked, one finger tapping thoughtfully against his cheek.

“Three days ago,” Tamm put in.

“So we've got four days to figure out something before they come back,” Jamie murmured. “But what are they, Doctor?”

“Good question,” the Doctor replied. “Would any of you be able to – to describe them?” The men shook their heads, their eyes shadowed with horror. “Or draw them?”

Tamm pulled out his dagger and held it over the hard chalk floor for a moment. Whether he was lost in indecision or paralysed by his fear of the memory of these creatures, Jamie did not know, but after a moment, he began to scratch at the floor in front of them. The drawing was rough, appearing upside-down to them and limited by the surface and the drawing instrument, but the intended meaning was plain. Inscribed on the chalk before them was a crude but instantly recognisable image of a Dalek.

In the darkness, eyes closed in horror, Jamie reached over and took the Doctor's shaking hand.


	2. Part 2

“Daleks,” Jamie repeated for at least the fourth time in ten minutes.

“Yes, Jamie.” The Doctor's voice sounded muffled, and he shifted so his forehead rested against Jamie's shoulder. The coolness of the touch against his bare skin was something comforting and familiar, a far cry from how alien it had once seemed to Jamie. “I was there. I saw it too.”

The hut they had been allocated was some distance from other buildings, close enough to the edges of the fort for the sounds of its inhabitants – ever fainter as the night wore on – to be muffled by the sounds of birds and livestock, and the rustling of leaves from the few trees nearby. After the arduous meeting's conclusion, they had been directed to their lodgings and left with a somewhat reluctant guard, who had long since departed. Jamie could not even bring himself to complain about the thin stew they had been brought for dinner as they sat, backs to the rough wattle-and-daub wall, sitting as close together as possible for reassurance, hardly noticing or caring that it made eating difficult. They had retired almost at once to the bed, the Doctor curled protectively around Jamie as if trying to protect him from the bloodshed they both knew was coming.

Jamie rolled over to pillow his head on the Doctor's chest, feeling the twin heartbeat soothe his own racing pulse. The Doctor wrapped an arm around his waist gently, as if he were still tentative after all this time, and Jamie nuzzled at his neck in sleepy satisfaction like a contented cat.

“At least you did better at pretending to be a seer than I did,” he mumbled. “Remember that? Roundheads, an' – an' -”

“Yes,” the Doctor replied. “With Ben and Polly.” He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. “Do you ever miss them?”

“Of course,” Jamie told him. “And Zoe, an' Victoria.”

“You could have stayed with them, you know,” the Doctor pointed out. “Polly would have been all too happy to settle you in. They would've looked after you.”

Jamie let out a soft breath of laughter, as if the Doctor's suggestion was the most ridiculous thing he had heard in his entire life. “I'd be lost, living there with them.”

“And you aren't lost travelling in the TARDIS?”

“I've got you, haven't I?”

The Doctor smiled at that, reaching up to gently brush Jamie's hair out of his eyes. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you do.”

“What're you going to do?”

The Doctor frowned down at him. “You still believe I've got all the answers, don't you?”

“No,” Jamie corrected him. “I know you've got all the answers. You'll figure something out. Ye always do.”

“I only wish that were the case, Jamie,” the Doctor sighed. “But there's nothing here to help us defeat them.”

“Aye, there is.” Jamie tilted his head back to look up at the Doctor, still smiling gently. “There's got to be something.” The Doctor shook his head, and Jamie pushed himself up to kiss him, slowly, tenderly, stroking his thumb along the Doctor's cheekbone, feeling the Doctor reach up one hand to tangle in his hair in return. Pulling back slightly, still close enough to feel the Doctor's cool breath on his lips, he murmured, “Promise me you won't give up?”

At last, the Doctor smiled back, however tentatively. “Promise,” he replied, pulling Jamie down to kiss him again.

* * *

Sunrise announced itself with a patch of light creeping under the door, the gradual accumulation of noise from the settlement, the reminder that the world kept turning despite the terror that still hung over them like a shroud. Jamie rolled over with a groan, burying his face in the Doctor's shoulder and feeling the embrace around him tighten in response.

“How did you sleep?” the Doctor asked him, rubbing a hand up and down his back soothingly, as if trying to soften his re-entry into the waking world.

“Ye only ask me that if there's something wrong.” Jamie raised his head blearily, peering down at the Doctor. “What happened?”

“You mumbled to yourself a few times, but that's nothing new,” the Doctor replied evasively. He hesitated, then continued, his voice becoming softer and less certain. “I was worried that you were dreaming about the last time we met the Daleks. I didn't want you to – it's not like that. We'll get through this.”

“Ah-ha. I thought so.” Reaching over to grab the Doctor's hand and grip it tightly, Jamie laced their fingers together. “I'm not going tae leave you.” The Doctor opened his mouth to protest, but Jamie shook his head. “I know ye worry that something's going to happen to me, or that the Time Lords will take me away again, or that one day I'll decide I've had enough. I'm no' that daft, you know.”

“I know you're not,” the Doctor chuckled. “But you can't win a war with confidence alone, Jamie.”

“Why not? You can lose a war without it.” A shadow seemed to pass across Jamie's face. “I know that. Maybe better than anyone here.”

The Doctor's reply was drowned out by a loud, insistent knock at the door, and a voice informing them that the leader wished to see them immediately. Sighing, the Doctor forced himself to sit upright, pulling a rather disgruntled Jamie with him and reaching out blindly towards the floor in search of his shirt, tossing something to Jamie before realising that it was his own coat, which Jamie bundled unceremoniously back into his arms with a huff of mock frustration.

Camrhis appeared as composed and unaffected by their predicament as he had the previous day, despite the Doctor and Jamie's obvious concern and their halting, struggling attempts to convey the threat the Daleks posed. He greeted them with a nod, dismissing the guard who had brought them with a flick of his wrist and summoning them into his roundhouse with the same gesture. The Doctor and Jamie hurried to obey his command – for there was no doubt that he expected them to comply – pressing themselves together as they forced themselves through the narrow doorway in unison. Camrhis stood with his back to them, the fingertips of one hand pressed to his mouth in thought, a controlled, measured expression of his own worry.

“Men have died, Doctor,” he began at last. “My people are panicked. They do not know what this means. Are we assaulted by some new enemy? Is this the work of the gods, sent to destroy us? Who or what brought these monsters upon us? You present to me my only hope of salvation, and it is a tenuous one. Our soldiers will not fight without belief, without a reason – without a plan. They will not rally to you. And yet you say you have dealt with these creatures before. What am I to trust? The opinions, the beliefs, of my own people – or the word of a stranger, who may yet prove to be one of my enemies himself!”

“Now, look here!” Jamie stood up to face Camrhis, forced to look up at the taller man, but clearly no less of a threat for it. “The Doctor's offering you your one way out of this. Tell your men that he'll deal with these beasties right enough. You're a fool not to believe him.”

“And you, boy,” Camrhis frowned down at him. “You have seen conflict, I can tell that much. And yet you trust the Doctor. Can you guarantee that he will lead us out of this, with not a drop of blood spilt? I think you are trying to protect him, for whatever reason. Just what are you to him?”

“Jamie, Jamie...” the Doctor sprang to his feet, stepping forward and laying a hand over Jamie's back, as if the mere touch could restrain him. Even as he did so, Jamie relaxed a little, automatically leaning towards the Doctor, though the cold glare he levelled at Camrhis never faltered for a moment. “Please be reasonable, my lord,” the Doctor continued, bowing slightly to Camrhis. “You must understand, I have no desire to see your men fall in battle either. If I can drive the Daleks away without a fight, then I certainly will. But I must have your support on this – and that, ah, includes civility towards my companion. We are not your people, to be governed by your ways, nor are we your subjects, to be ordered around and questioned. We could carry on our way, if we so wished – but we want to help you.” He smiled benignly until Camrhis, too, relaxed. “That's better. Now, how am I to win the allegiance of your men?”

Camrhis sighed. “There is to be a feast tonight. It is traditional for warriors to try and incite the men to follow them before setting out on such an enterprise. You must win them over.” As the Doctor and Jamie turned to leave, he called after them. “And remember, Doctor – you are running out of time. You have three days before the next man will die.”

“Aye, and I think I know who they'd put in the line of fire first,” Jamie muttered under his breath.

* * *

The night seemed ablaze with the light of torches and fire pits and the stars, the village seated in a great wheel with Camrhis in the centre, standing so he towered over them, his arms outstretched to make his cloak fan out behind him like wings. He was engrossed in telling the story of some past victory, and the villagers gasped and cheered as he wove the narrative. Even the Doctor was caught up in the excitement of it, his eyes as wide as those of any of the children. Jamie, however, was tensed with nervousness, anxiously awaiting the moment that the Doctor would be called upon to compete for his claim to the warriors' loyalties.

For now, however, he had a plate of food and what seemed to be a beaker of rather strong ale before him, he and the Doctor having been presented with prime cuts of the pig that had been sacrificed as a courtesy. The Doctor was leaning comfortably against him, and the night was cool but not so cold as to bite at his skin. Every so often, the Doctor would glance at him with an expression of utmost affection, sometimes reaching out a hand to gently paw at his chest, and Jamie would lay a hand on the Doctor's leg in return. For now, he could forget that anything was wrong.

Gradually, the tale drew to a close, though Jamie was distracted enough by the look the Doctor was giving him to miss the end. But Camrhis' voice rang out once more, this time with enough authority to hush the entire village, and turn even the Doctor's attention to him. “Friends!” he called. “These past days have been trying ones. We have lost some of our number to an enemy force, the likes of which have never been seen in this land before. But there is one man who believes he can save us. The Doctor brings hope, and he asks for our assistance.”

At this, the Doctor stood up, a little unsteadily. Jamie instinctively reached out towards him, and the Doctor took his hand, squeezed it gently, then continued on towards the centre of the circle, leaving Jamie sitting alone. “What your leader says is true,” the Doctor began. His voice was quiet, a sharp contrast to Camrhis' loud proclamations, but the village seemed to be spellbound, an even deeper hush falling over the scene. All that could be heard was the crackling of the fires, the soft sounds of the landscape around them. “You are faced with a great and powerful evil – one unlike anything you have ever seen. But I have met this evil before, in my travels. I have faced it down and defeated it! And I am confident that I will do so again. But I need your help. I need you to stand with me in order to free you from this menace. I cannot promise that all of your people will survive this. I will not make false promises or give you false hope. But what I can give you is the chance to escape this. Without my help, they will slaughter all of you or capture you. I don't know why they want you. But I can guarantee you that whatever it is, it will be some form of terrible experiment. So the question is this. Will you allow your entire village to be slaughtered?”

There was a moment's tense silence, the villagers exchanging somewhat nervous glances, before the crowd erupted into noise. The warriors let out a great roar of approval, clearly desperate for any chance to fight back against that which had taken their friends. Jamie had a sneaking suspicion that regardless of whether or not the Doctor had spoken well, they would have agreed, so glad were they to be striking back. The Doctor grinned, gave the crowd a little bow as if he were a stage performer, and trotted back to take his place beside Jamie once more, taking his hand as he did so.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of excitement and relief, the feeling that half the battle was already won now that they had the hill fort's inhabitants on their side. The rational part of Jamie knew that to defeat the Daleks required much more than brute force and primitive weapons, but he silenced it in favour of joining in on the villagers' happiness. Even Camrhis allowed himself to show his relief at the Doctor's success, at the merest hint that they might yet stand a chance.

Leaning heavily on the Doctor, one arm slung around his shoulders as they crossed the settlement heading back to their own roundhouse, Jamie found that, just for a little while, he could forget the imminent Dalek invasion. He could forget the strong likelihood that they were all about to die, that there was about to be a massacre far worse than anything in his own time, if only he concentrated on the expression the Doctor had worn after winning the approval of the people. The Doctor himself was humming cheerfully, still smiling, and as they neared the roundhouse, Jamie leant over and kissed him.

“Mm -” After a moment, the Doctor's eyes fluttered open, his expression flickering from confusion to pleasant surprise as he found Jamie's hands cupped gently around his face, their foreheads resting together. “Jamie, what -” The rest of his sentence was lost as Jamie kissed him again, more eagerly this time, backing him against the wall of the roundhouse, his hands shifting away from the Doctor's face to move across his shoulders, the Doctor pulling him closer by the waist with a hum of contentment.

They remained happily entwined for a few long moments before the Doctor pulled away with a contented sigh. “Jamie...” he mumbled. “I think you're just a little bit tipsy.”

“'m no',” Jamie protested, and the Doctor chuckled at his sudden unsteadiness and the deepening of his accent. “'m fine. Anyway, who says I have tae be tipsy to kiss ye?”

“Nobody – you're perfectly welcome to kiss me any time you like,” the Doctor replied, reaching up to tap him on the nose, then leaning forward to kiss him again. He turned away at the last moment, however, staring out towards the walls of the hill fort, ignoring Jamie's frustrated whine. “Quiet, Jamie. Did you hear that?”

Immediately, Jamie snapped to attention, his sense of security forgotten in an instant. “What?” he whispered.

“That noise,” the Doctor replied. He quieted Jamie, pressing a hand over his mouth. “There it is again!”

They remained frozen for a moment, arms around each other, bearing equally frightened expressions. As one, they began to move towards the fortifications, the Doctor taking Jamie's hand to pull him up the steep slope and towards the edge of the rampart. Jamie placed his hands on the Doctor's shoulders nervously, wondering whether the gesture was meant to protect the Doctor or himself. Alone in the darkness, unsure if they were about to catch their first glimpse of the invading forces, they stared out into the night.


	3. Part 3

For a moment, there was complete silence, nothing but silhouettes and the blaze of the stars above them. A twig cracked, and Jamie drew in a breath sharply, but the Doctor began to laugh.

“What?” Jamie turned to him in confusion, then saw the shifting of shadows that gave away the identity of the menace. A snuffling sound reached their ears, and the pig snorted and turned back towards the far end of its pen. “Och, all that for a pig?”

The Doctor merely laughed harder for a moment, and Jamie found himself joining in. For once, the monster they had feared had turned out to be harmless, and they were safe.

“Time we were asleep, I think,” the Doctor pointed out. “We've done the easy part – convinced them to trust us. Tomorrow we actually have to think of a plan. That's the tricky bit.”

* * *

“Well, do these creatures have any weaknesses?” Tamm demanded. “They must. Everything has a weakness.”

“Oh, certainly,” the Doctor agreed. “But there's nothing here that could help us. You can't fight a Dalek with an axe – you wouldn't even dent it's casing. They aren't of your world or your time, you know. You must accept that.” He frowned for a moment, lost in thought. “If only we knew what they wanted.”

“Aye, or where they were,” Jamie put in. “If they had a spaceship it would be easy to destroy that...”

“No weapons, remember?” the Doctor replied grimly. “No, if we're going to act, it must be directed at the Daleks themselves. At least if the spaceship is unguarded we might stand a chance of dismantling it, or even setting the coordinates for the sun. No, we have to take the fight to them.”

Jamie paused for a moment, holding the fingers of one hand to his mouth in concentration. “Is there any water near here?” he asked Tamm at length.

“... Water?” Tamm repeated, sounding utterly baffled. The Doctor, too, turned to Jamie in confusion.

“Aye, man, water.” Jamie's eyes were alight with excitement now. He turned to the Doctor. “The way I see it, the Daleks are made of metal. Metal and water don't mix, right? So lead the Daleks into the water -”

“- and that'll stop them,” the Doctor finished. “I don't believe the Daleks are vulnerable to water, but it might slow them down for a little while.” He held one finger to his lips, lost in thought, then broke into a wide smile. “Jamie, you're a genius!”

“I am?” Without warning, the Doctor leant over, grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forward to thoroughly and enthusiastically kiss him. Jamie was shocked into stillness for a moment, then kissed back with a little noise of approval, only vaguely conscious of the expressions of those around them, ranging from confusion to disapproval. At last, the Doctor pulled back, still grinning and smoothing his shirt and looking as unaffected as if Jamie wasn't left dazed by his attentions.

“Ah. Yes.” The Doctor turned back towards Tamm and the other senior warriors. “As Jamie was saying, the Daleks may become more vulnerable in water. Where is the nearest body of water?”

“There's a brook a little way west of here,” Tamm put in.

“And when the Daleks have visited you, which direction do they come from?”

“The west,” Tamm replied, appearing more and more puzzled.

“Ah-ha!” The Doctor clapped his hands together in excitement. “Gentlemen, I think we stand a chance. Here's what we're going to do.”

* * *

“You don't really believe your plan's going to work, do ye?” Jamie asked him some hours later.

Even in the shelter of the roundhouse they had been assigned, away from the curious eyes of the villagers and the stern judgement of the warriors, Jamie wished that they were back in their own bedroom on board the TARDIS. The Doctor was sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, with Jamie curled so his head rested on the Doctor's thigh, the Doctor playing absent-mindedly with his hair. He claimed it helped him think, but Jamie suspected he was just looking for an excuse for contact, the solid, irrefutable proof that Jamie was safe and alive and with him even after all that time apart. Jamie still found it difficult to wrap his head around the magnitude of those years the Doctor had spent without him, but he saw the truth of it in gestures like this, in the Doctor's new-found concern and need for reassurance.

“Of course I do,” the Doctor told him. “Why shouldn't it? Anyway, you suggested it. You made me promise not to give up.”

“I suggested leading them to the water.” Jamie rolled over so he was looking up at the Doctor instead of towards the wall. “You suggested trying to pull off the tops of their casing and letting the warriors poke at the beasties inside. Maybe I was wrong, and I underestimated how difficult this was going to be.”

“Well... well, it's only logical, isn't it?” The Doctor smoothed his hair away from his face gently, smiling down at him as if nothing was wrong. “Remove the armour as best we can and render them vulnerable. The Dalekanium exteriors might be near-impregnable, but the creature inside certainly isn't.”

Jamie sighed. “I can't help feeling that we're not going to win this time,” he mumbled. “Can you no' call in the Time Lords on this one?”

“No.” The harshness of the Doctor's response startled him, though he knew it to be directed towards the Time Lords themselves, not him. “What do you think they'd make of a – a failure like that, particularly an unnecessary one? I won't risk it.” He paused, his eyes flickering away from Jamie and towards the thin belt of stars visible through the doorway. “I won't risk you. The plan will work.”

“And I willnae let you risk the lives of innocents for my sake!” Jamie sat upright, putting his hands on the Doctor's shoulders. “Doctor. Call in the Time Lords. There's nothing else we can do.”

“Isn't there?” The Doctor's eyes were ablaze with determination. “We have a plan, in case you've forgotten -”

“Aye, a terrible one that's bound to get people killed -”

“And calling in the Time Lords is completely unnecessary!” the Doctor finished as if Jamie had not interrupted. “We managed perfectly well before without running to them every time we weren't sure how it was going to end.”

“We never faced anything like this before,” Jamie reminded him. “What if we fail? What about all your warnings about meddling with history?”

“The occupants of Danebury hill fort were all killed in a raid around this time,” the Doctor argued. “Who is to say that doesn't happen now, and that we aren't ensuring history stays on the correct path?”

Jamie frowned, leaning back to hold the Doctor at arm's length and studying him as if something in his appearance would supply the answers he sought. “You've changed. You're not the same as ye were before. You'd never have said something like that.”

“Why are you so desperate to call them in?” The Doctor's eyes were filled with hurt and something Jamie was forced to call betrayal, and he felt it like a blow to the chest.

“Because we have no other choice!” he exclaimed. “Because I remember what happened last time, and I remember all the people who died, or who got hurt by it! An' I don't want it to happen again.”

The Doctor sighed heavily, appearing suddenly exhausted, then reached out to tug him forward, pulling Jamie against his chest and holding him tightly. “I know,” he murmured. “Do you think I want it to happen again either? At least let me question the Daleks. Please. I'll call in the Time Lords if we need to. I promise.”

“Alright.” Jamie nodded, and wrapped his arms around the Doctor in return. “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

“Don't be.” The Doctor looked down at him with a mixture of fondness and fear. “You're right, I'm not the same as I was before. I can't be. I don't want to put the lives of innocents in danger any more than you do. I know there's a good chance we can't do this without help. But I'm afraid I'll lose you again.” He sighed, suddenly seeming infinitely weary. “One day, you'll decide I've changed too much. You'll move on, or find someone else. And I won't be able to stop that. But I won't let _them_ take you away again.”

“Och, ye daft wee man,” Jamie mumbled into his shoulder. “I'm not going to leave ye. Not for all the world.”

* * *

“Are we all clear on what we have to do?” The Doctor looked around at the assembled soldiers from his vantage point atop a large stone. A murmur of assent rose from the crowd, and the Doctor scrambled back towards the ground rather ungracefully. “Good. Make sure you stay hidden until I give the signal. Off you go.” He nodded to Camrhis and Tamm, who gestured for their troops to follow them, heading towards a large copse of trees for shelter. Left alone with Jamie at the hill fort's entrance, the Doctor turned to him, his expression flickering from hope to fear. “And you – be careful,” he managed at last, pushing gently at Jamie's shoulder. “I know what sort of trouble you get into, even if I'm going to be there the whole time.”

“Aye, well, I'm not the only one,” Jamie retorted. “Watch out for yourself for once.”

“Alright,” the Doctor agreed. “Come here.” Jamie hesitated for a moment, looking around to see if all the soldiers had gone, then stepped into the Doctor's open arms and buried his face in his shoulder. “There is a very real risk that neither of us will live through this, Jamie.”

“Isn't there always?” Jamie asked.

“Well, yes,” the Doctor admitted. “But I can't help thinking about it. Especially now, after...” he trailed off, but he did not need to finish the sentence for Jamie to know what he meant. He cast a glance towards the trail of soldiers in the distance. “We should be going.”

Hand in hand, they trekked towards the site Camrhis had identified as the most likely location of the Dalek spaceship. Their first glimpse of it was a great glint of metal in the weak morning sunlight, half-obscured by trees, though not enough to mask its alien shape. The Doctor nodded to himself and walked faster, pulling Jamie along with him until they reached the copse of trees. A Dalek glided up to them, its arms waving madly.

“Intruders!” it screeched. “Intruders discovered in sector four.”

“Bring them to the ship.” Another Dalek arrived behind it, the light in its eyestalk shrinking as it saw them, seeming to focus on the Doctor. “This one is known to us.”

“Yes,” the Doctor said warily. “Yes, I dare say I am.”

“Take them,” the Dalek ordered.

Forced to march between the Daleks, Jamie and the Doctor kept their eyes trained on the scene before them. More and more Daleks converged around them, a nightmarish version of a guard of honour, escorting them into the lions' den to be examined and disposed of as necessary. The Doctor appeared nonchalant, whistling cheerfully, if somewhat tunelessly, but Jamie could see his eyes darting to and fro, identifying the position of each Dalek around them. Eventually, they were brought to a halt before the great saucer-like spaceship, gleaming silver and looming above them. The Daleks spread out in a semi-circle before them, and the Doctor smiled.

“At last,” he said. “I've been hearing all about your _escapades_ here. What do you have to say for yourselves this time, then?”

“Doctor,” one of the Daleks began. “You know of us. You must be exterminated!”

“Now,” the Doctor said, tapping at his chin as if lost in thought, “where have I heard that before? At least do me the courtesy of telling me what's going on first.”

The Daleks remained silent for a moment. “We have designed an experiment,” came the reply. “We require humans to carry out our plans.”

“But why take them alive?” the Doctor asked. “Why do you need them to come with you of their own free will? You could have just captured them.”

“The Daleks require a new source of power. We require humans to generate that power.”

“Oh, I see!” The Doctor's eyes grew wide first with comprehension, then with horror. “Draining the energy from biological matter... cannibalising life itself, what the Daleks do best. But your technology is still primitive by your standards, isn't it? Requires voluntary energy transfer?” The Daleks did not reply, and the Doctor, taking this as confirmation, laughed, his eyes glinting coldly, menacingly. Jamie half expected the Daleks to back away at the sight of that expression on the Doctor's face, for he had seen it precede the toppling of empires, the merciless destruction of any who stood in his way. The Doctor might choose to seem harmless, but Jamie knew well the danger that was concealed within him. “Well, you're not going to get it. None of these humans will obey you. But why do you need the energy in the first place? Unless...” He snapped his fingers, turning to Jamie. “Time travel.”

“Eh?” Jamie was completely lost at this sudden change of subject.

“Traces of temporal activity in the area. Oh, Jamie, we should have realised!” Once again, he turned to the Daleks, a wide-eyed fascination spreading across his face. “The Dalek race doesn't need energy, you've got all the technology you need on your home planet! Your ship is stranded, isn't it? A time travel pioneer, of sorts. And you're trying to open up another gateway and get yourselves back home.” He smiled coldly. “It's never going to work, you know. Ripping a hole in space-time like that requires colossal amounts of energy.”

“Then we will move to the next human settlement,” one of the Daleks told him. “And we will refine the technology. We will succeed!” This cry was taken up by the rest of the Daleks, an inhuman chorus ringing out through the landscape.

“Now, Jamie, I think that's our cue to leave.” Taking Jamie's hand once again, the Doctor pulled him away. “Run!” Too late, the Daleks fired, their shots converging on the spot they had been standing on a moment previously. One of the beams missed Jamie by a hair's breadth, but he barely had time to register its presence as they raced towards the river. His heart was pounding, its noise seeming loud enough to block out the sound of the Daleks behind him. He could feel the Doctor's hearts racing too, the twin beat of his pulse even faster than his own. As they ran, the warriors of the hill fort emerged from between the trees, a single, dark shape curving out to fall into step behind them. The Daleks were close behind, hovering over the uneven terrain, the front line firing mercilessly. One of the men cried out, and glancing back, Jamie saw the blurred shape of a body hit the ground and roll over, still carried by its own momentum, before the Doctor pulled him on.

They splashed into the shallows of the brook, the Doctor pausing in the middle to urge the men along before following them to the other side. The first Daleks started to enter the water, then the second row, then the third. They whined and shuddered to a halt, and the men began to push forwards.

“Stay out of range of the guns!” the Doctor warned. “They're not completely defenceless!” Tamm and Camrhis approached to stand beside them. “Part one finished,” the Doctor remarked, letting out a great sigh of relief. “Now for part two.” He watched the men begin to hack at the Daleks experimentally, learning how to pull the tops off and get at the creature inside. After a moment, he turned to Jamie. “Jamie, in the TARDIS, there's a – a piece of remote driving apparatus. If I could reprogram that, link it up to the Daleks' ship, we might be able to send them into the sun, or somewhere equally as inhospitable.” He chuckled at his own joke for a moment, seemingly unaware of how morbid it seemed. “Could you go and get it for me, please?”

Jamie cast a despairing glance at the scene unfolding in the brook, the water turning a sickly green, fragments of Dalek tendrils occasionally visible downstream, a foamy substance bubbling out of the opened shells. Already, the bodies of more men were lying on the stones or being swept away, caught in the Daleks' fire. “I cannae just leave you,” he protested.

“Jamie.” The Doctor laid his hands on his shoulders gently. “I must have that box. Please?”

“Och, alright,” Jamie agreed at last, and the Doctor kissed him on the cheek.

“Thankyou.” He paused. “You do know what it looks like, don't you? A black box, about so large -” he gestured with his hands, marking out the object's size. “Has 'control relay' written on it.”

“Aye, I'll find it.” Jamie turned and ran back towards the great bulk of the hill fort in the distance, skirting around the river to find another ford to cross. If only he could avoid the Daleks, he had a chance of making it to the TARDIS and back alive. As he ran, however, he saw yet more dark shapes pushing towards them. Some unrelated human gathering, perhaps? Or... Turning back to face this new gathering of forces with growing horror, Jamie began to recognise the individual shapes within. He wished desperately that what he was seeing was a trick of the eyes, a product of his own panicked brain. He wished that what he was seeing was mere fantasy.

Heading towards them, speeding across the landscape with terrifying speed, was another, even larger contingent of Daleks. The Doctor and the warriors were about to be overwhelmed by a force they had no chance of defeating.


	4. Part 4

Slamming the TARDIS doors shut, Jamie leant against them for a moment, breathing heavily. He was convinced that the Daleks had seen him once or twice, but none of them had bothered to follow him. And even if they had, the TARDIS was impregnable. He was safe – for the moment.

Pushing himself away from the doors and towards the console, he wandered wearily towards the console, trying to push himself forwards faster, but finding that he lacked the energy after his exertion. At last, he reached the storage space which branched off the console room, and to his relief, he found the small box sitting on top of something which looked like a sea chest reinvented for a spaceship. Returning to the console, he paused. There was no time to warn the Doctor of what he had seen – the Daleks were faster and closer than he was. Mass slaughter seemed unavoidable. He had no choice.

Putting his hands on the console, the way he had seen the Doctor do so many times before, Jamie looked up at the time rotor in apprehension. “Hello?” He could have sworn that the ship briefly changed the pitch of its hum, almost as if it were laughing at his inexperience, and in that moment, he realised the utter ridiculousness of what he was doing. “I... I need some help!” The ship remained infuriatingly silent. “Alright, then, the Doctor needs your help! He'll die if I can't do this, and I cannae do it on my own. Please?”

This time, the ship's humming definitely changed in tone, and Jamie felt himself drawn to one side of the console, as if his body were controlled by something else. Gradually, he became aware of something massive, ancient, and incredibly powerful pressing on the edges of his consciousness, as if there was a pressure against one side of his skull, and he knew that the TARDIS was responding at last.

“Right. I want to send a message to the Time Lords. How can I do that?”

This time, he found his hand being pulled towards a large, round ball on on the console. It could have fitted with relative comfort in his hand, opaque white and not entirely smooth to the touch in that way that plastic sometimes was. When he laid his hand on it, the interior started to glow a gentle golden colour.

“What does it do?” It was strange, having a conversation with a ship in this manner, but Jamie quashed his faint uneasiness. The words ' _psychic relay_ ' drifted across his mind, though he was sure that the thought was not his own. “Is that what this thing's called, then?” The TARDIS almost seemed to sing in approval. “Psychic relay... I have to think about the message I want to send, and they'll get it?” Somehow, he knew this comment was greeted with approval. “Alright then.”

_Danebury hill fort, 76 BC_ , he recalled, almost automatically, and sprang backwards in surprise. He could have sworn the TARDIS chuckled at that. Stepping forward again, he placed his hand on the sphere once more. _Danebury hill fort, 76 BC. Discovered Daleks and are outnumbered and outgunned. In desperate need of reinforcements. Please send help immediately._ Vaguely, he became aware that the words were those of the TARDIS using his memories and emotions to shape its – no, her – words. The golden glow of the orb pulsed brighter for a moment, then turned to crimson and faded, and the TARDIS's presence slipped out of his mind. Intuitively, he knew that the message had been sent and received.

After a moment, he remembered the box, and the Doctor's urgent pleas for it to be brought to him. If the Time Lords failed to respond, if there was any chance he could reach the Doctor before the Dalek forces arrived – well, he had to try. Gripping the box in both hands, he stepped out of the doors and began to run.

He was only a few metres away from the TARDIS, however, when a bright white light filled his vision, causing him to stumble, falling to his knees and throwing his hands across his face. There was a noise like thunder, and a screaming like nothing he had ever heard before. After a moment, he realised from its metallic sound that it was the death throes of the Daleks. The Time Lords had arrived.

“Doctor!” he called out, knowing it was hopeless, that the Doctor could not have heard him from such a distance, even in absolute silence. “Doctor!” The noise grew louder as if in response to his cries, until the pain of it was unbearable. Blackness started to bite at the corners of Jamie's vision, consuming it, and he found himself curled on the ground, hands over his ears. It was like all the pain he had ever experienced accumulated into one sound and directed entirely at him, though he knew the effects would be felt all across the landscape. Distantly, he became aware of his own screams of pain, muffled by the noise in his own head as if they were issuing from someone else. The pain grew until he no longer felt a part of himself, standing to one side and watching his own body writhing in pain on the ground, unable to help. Some part of him that was still free and able to think clearly realised that the Doctor must be experiencing the same pain, and the very thought sickened him. He did not know how long it took to finally slip into unconsciousness.

* * *

Jamie awoke, disoriented and weakened, still curled around himself protectively, but lying on a podium raised a few inches above a shining black floor. What little he could see of the scene before him seemed horrifyingly familiar, but he could not remember where he had seen it before. There was only the taste of dust in his mouth, and the incessant pounding of his head.

“Stand.”

The command was quiet, but no less intimidating for its lack of volume, and Jamie hastened to stand up, despite the further pain it brought to his head. Rubbing at his eyes and holding a hand to his forehead, he caught his first proper glimpse of his surroundings. A great screen occupied the wall closest to him, and looming over him on a much higher podium stood three pale figures, robed in black and white and stark against the darkness behind them. The knowledge of where he was came to him in a rush of horror. He had been brought to the Time Lord court.

“Where's the Doctor?” he managed at last.

“He sleeps,” came the reply. “We have already... dealt with him.”

“What have you done to him?” His pain forgotten in his anger, Jamie surged forwards, only to find himself thrown back onto the ground by a forcefield around the edges of the podium. “What are you going to do with me? Wipe my memory again?”

The Time Lords were silent for a long moment. “No,” one of them announced at last. “Your conduct on this mission does not warrant a return to your proper time zone.”

“Then why am I here?” Jamie challenged.

“The Doctor must not know of the Daleks' continued survival,” the tallest of the Time Lords told him, disinterest and contempt radiating from him in waves. “To preserve the timeline, his memory of this mission has been altered. He will remember only a temporal distortion of unknown causes. The natives of that time and place have also had their memories altered, and the Doctor's TARDIS has had its archives and travel history edited. The Dalek fleet has been destroyed. No trace of them will ever be found. But you know the truth.” There was a pause, and Jamie realised that the Time Lords were reluctant to make their next announcement. “We request that you withhold all information about this mission from the Doctor.”

“Withhold information?” Jamie echoed incredulously. “I won't keep your secrets from the Doctor. I thought you'd have realised that by now. I cannae keep this from him, timeline or no timeline! And nothing you say is going tae change my mind about that!”

For a moment, he sat frozen in fear, the gravity of what he had just said crashing down upon him, feeling very small with the Time Lords towering over him. This was it, he thought to himself. This was the moment the Time Lords decided they had had enough of his impudence, his refusal to obey their orders. They were going to wipe his mind and send him back to Culloden without even giving him the chance to say goodbye to the Doctor, and he closed his eyes tightly in terror and regret.

“Then you leave us with no choice,” the Time Lord proclaimed dispassionately. “We will also alter your recollection of this mission. We cannot risk the Doctor discovering the truth.”

For a brief moment, Jamie was overwhelmed with relief and gratitude before the darkness consumed him once again.

* * *

“Hm? Jamie?”

Gradually, Jamie became aware that the Doctor was blinking down at him in sleepy confusion, gently running one hand through his hair. After some time, he recognised their surroundings as being their bedroom on board the TARDIS, but was unable to place why that felt surprising to him. The past few days felt somehow blurred, as if – no. He could recite in perfect detail exactly what had happened on their last mission, so why did it seem as if he had dreamt it?

“What?” Jamie mumbled in mock-annoyance. “It's too early to be awake. Go back to sleep.”

“I feel like I've forgotten something big,” the Doctor persisted. “Something important.”

Jamie considered this for a moment. There was something at the back of his mind, but he suppressed it. He had a strange sense that this was not an issue he should pursue. “Well, as long as you havenae left some wee gadget on so it can blow us all to kingdom come before breakfast, it cannae be that important, can it?” Nodding to himself as if he had made a decisive argument, he closed his eyes again. Deep in his subconscious, his true memories stirred, shifted, and slept, and he felt a sort of approval, as if someone were pleased with his lack of curiosity.

There was a moment of silence. “ _Jamie._ ”

“What?”

“Don't you feel it too?”

“Why would I know if you'd forgotten something?” At last, Jamie sat up, propping his chin on his hands and looking down at the Doctor.

“Oh, no reason really. I just wondered.” The Doctor was looking at him in that way that Jamie always found hopelessly endearing – a mixture of amusement and affection that softened his eyes and curved his lips into a tiny smile. Tugging on Jamie's shoulders, he rolled them over so he was curled around Jamie, head resting on his chest. “I'm sure it doesn't matter, anyway.”

Smiling at their contented cocoon of warmth and safety, Jamie found himself nodding and wrapping an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. “I'm sure it doesn't,” he agreed.


End file.
